Thursday, December 15, 2016

“If you have an apple and I have an apple and we exchange apples then you and I will still each have one apple. But if you have an idea and I have an idea and we exchange these ideas, then each of us will have two ideas.”—George Bernard Shaw

At Calgary’s When Words Collide this past August, I
moderated a panel on Eco-Fiction with publisher/writer Hayden Trenholm,
and writers Michael J. Martineck, Sarah Kades, and Susan Forest. The panel was
well attended; panelists and audience discussed and argued what eco-fiction
was, its role in literature and storytelling generally, and even some of the
risks of identifying a work as eco-fiction.

Someone in the audience
brought up the notion that “awareness-guided perception” may suggest an
increase of ecological awareness in literature when it is more that readers are
just noticing what was always there. Authors agreed and pointed out that
environmental fiction has been written for years and it is only now—partly with
the genesis of the term eco-fiction—that the “character” and
significance of environment is being acknowledged beyond its metaphor; for its
actual value. It may also be that the metaphoric symbols of environment in
certain classics are being “retooled” through our current awareness much in the
same way that Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World or George Orwell’s Nineteen
Eighty Four are being re-interpreted—and newly appreciated— in today’s
world of pervasive surveillance and bio-engineering.

I would submit that if we are
noticing it more, we are also writing it more. Artists are cultural leaders and
reporters, after all. I shared my own experience in the science fiction classes
I teach at UofT and George Brown College, in which I have noted a trend of
increasing “eco-fiction” in the works in progress that students are bringing in
to workshop in class. Students were not aware that they were writing
eco-fiction, but they were indeed writing it.

I started branding my writing
as eco-fiction a few years ago. Prior to that—even though my stories were
strongly driven by an ecological premise and strong environmental setting—I
described them as science fiction and many as technological thrillers.
Environment’s role remained subtle and—at times—insidious. Climate change.
Water shortage. Environmental disease. A city’s collapse. War. I’ve used these
as backdrops to explore relationships, values (such as honour and loyalty),
philosophies, moralities, ethics, and agencies of action. The stuff of
storytelling.

Environment, and ecological
characteristics were less “theme” than “character,” with which the protagonist
and major characters related in important ways.

Just as Bong Joon-Ho’s 2014
science fiction movie Snowpiercer wasn’t so much about climate change as
it was about exploring class struggle, the capitalist decadence of entitlement,
disrespect and prejudice through the premise of climate catastrophe. Though,
one could argue that these form a closed loop of cause and effect (and
responsibility).

The self-contained closed
ecosystem of the Snowpiercer train is maintained by an ordered social
system, imposed by a stony militia. Those at the front of the train enjoy
privileges and luxurious living conditions, though most drown in a debauched
drug stupor; those at the back live on next to nothing and must resort to
savage means to survive. Revolution brews from the back, lead by Curtis Everett
(Chris Evans), a man whose two intact arms suggest he hasn’t done his part to
serve the community yet.

Minister Mason (Tilda
Swinton), an imperious yet simpering figure who serves the ruling class without
quite being part of it, reminds the lower class that:

“We must all of us on this
train of life remain in our allotted station. We must each of us occupy our
preordained particular position. Would you wear a shoe on your head? Of course
you wouldn’t wear a shoe on your head. A shoe doesn’t belong on your head. A
shoe belongs on your foot. A hat belongs on your head. I am a hat. You are a
shoe. I belong on the head. You belong on the foot. Yes? So it is.

In the beginning, order was
prescribed by your ticket: First Class, Economy, and freeloaders like you…Now,
as in the beginning, I belong to the front. You belong to the tail. When
the foot seeks the place of the head, the sacred line is crossed. Know your
place. Keep your place. Be a shoe.”

Ecotones are places where
“lines are crossed,” where barriers are breached, where “words collide” and new
opportunities arise. Sometimes from calamity. Sometimes from tragedy. Sometimes
from serendipity.

When environment shapes a
story as archetype—hero, victim, trickster, shadow or shape shifter—we get
strong eco-fiction. Good eco-fiction, like any good story, explores the choices
we make and the consequences of those choices. Good eco-fiction ventures into
the ecotone of overlap, collision, exchange and ultimate change.

In my latest book Water Is…
I define an ecotone as the transition zone between two overlapping systems. It
is essentially where two communities exchange information and integrate.
Ecotones typically support varied and rich communities, representing a boiling
pot of two colliding worlds. An estuary—where fresh water meets salt water. The
edge of a forest with a meadow. The shoreline of a lake or pond.

For me, this is a fitting
metaphor for life, given that the big choices we must face usually involve a
collision of ideas, beliefs, lifestyles or worldviews: these often prove to
enrich our lives the most for having gone through them. Evolution (any
significant change) doesn’t happen within a stable system; adaptation and growth
occur only when stable systems come together, disturb the equilibrium, and
create opportunity. Good social examples include a close friendship or a
marriage in which the process of “I” and “you” becomes a dynamic “we” (the
ecotone) through exchange and reciprocation. Another version of Bernard Shaw’s
quote, above, by the Missouri Pacific Agriculture Development Bulletin reads:
“You have an idea. I have an idea. We swap. Now, you have two ideas and so do
I. Both are richer. What you gave you have. What you got I did not lose. This
is cooperation.” This is ecotone.

I think we are seeing more
eco-fiction out there because ecosystems, ecology and environment are becoming
more integral to story: as characters in their own right. I think we are seeing
more eco-fiction out there because we are ready to see it. Just as quantum
physics emerged when it did and not sooner, an idea—a thought—crystalizes when
we are ready for it.

About Nina

I'm The Alien Next Door. I'm an ecologist and a published author of several novels, articles and reviews. I teach writing at George Brown College and UofT. I also coach writers. For more on writing (articles and advice) and more information about my coaching, visit me at Nina Munteanu Writing Coach. Visit Nina Munteanu Writer for more about my own writing. My new site The Meaning of Water is devoted to our precious water and brings my interest as an ecologist and limnologist to help understand the meaning and importance of this precious and mysterious element. Inside, you'll find articles that explore what water is and its meaning to this planet and to us as a species and life form.